


You Raise Me Up

by okami14



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Carrying, Dominance, Gentle Sex, Height Differences, M/M, Manhandling, Oral Sex, Seduction, Size Difference, bridal carry, fireman carry, shoulder carry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13492113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okami14/pseuds/okami14
Summary: Fingers dug into his skin. Strong, rough, perfect. They played and tweaked and pushed in places he’d never considered."Bull, I-I can’t!-""Yes, you can. Let yourself go."-----5 times The Iron Bull picked up the Inquisitor and the 1 time the Inquisitor picked up The Iron Bull.





	1. Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> Let me give a big shout out to Paragadesluster for being the best Beta ever! Without them this story wouldn't have made it this far. Please go read their amazing works. Especially if you like Cullen or Cassandra. Which I'm sure you do.
> 
> For a photo of the Inquisitor's appearance, see here - https://pastelpinkkadan.tumblr.com/post/170172566357/this-is-my-inquisitor-joel-trevelyan-look-at
> 
> Comments, suggestions, and critiques are all appreciated! Thank you!

1\. Shoulders

 

The first time it happened, Joel hadn’t thought much of it. Or that it would be a repeated occurrence. 

It was obvious to anyone with even the most limited vision that The Iron Bull was a massive man. While the Inquisitor had never considered himself a small man, in comparison, he might as well have called himself a dwarf. This was not a negative factor, though. In fact, over the last few months Joel had begun to thoroughly enjoy the height difference.

Looking up at someone, looking up at Bull specifically, had lit a strange fire within his stomach. Normally he would be able to gaze at a person straight in the eyes, or tilted his chin downward in some cases. Yet with Bull, he had to look up. And, more interesting than that, Bull had to look down.

Being held by such an intense, steady gaze had intimidated him at first. Which had surprised Joel; his noble background had taught him that few could hold such power over him. He wasn’t a particularly prideful person, but he would be the first to admit that the Trevelyans didn't back down easily. Him agreeing to be with the Inquisition and accepting the title of Herald was proof of that. Which was why Joel had often paused when talking to the Qunari at first, having to pick and choose his words lest he sound completely ridiculous. His mind simply short-circuited around the man. It wasn’t until much later that he truly understood why.

 

The Hinterlands were nothing excessively difficult to get around. Nice forests, a few hills, and long expansions of flat land. Joel found it even sometimes pleasant, when templars or rebel mages weren’t trying to kill them and loot their corpses.

Joel, Bull, Cassandra, and Varric were on their way to Redcliffe, hopping to talk with Grand Enchanter Fiona about the rebel mages. It was a troubling situation and finding a solution in which everyone could be happy was supposedly impossible. Yet they had to try. Joel could not stand back and let his fellow mages continue to die nor watch as innocent people got caught in the crossfire. There was a better way, he truly believed that. They simply had to find it. 

“I hope you are not putting all of this into one of your books, Varric,” Cassandra murmured, displeasure evident in her tone. 

“You aren’t that interesting, Seeker,” Varric quipped in return. 

Joel generally tried not to have the two of them together for too long when they went out on missions. Bickering was always the result. It was mildly entertaining, he had to admit. He barely hid the smile on his face as he spoke, having a teasing edge to his normally composed tone. 

“Do I have to separate you two? I will use magic.”

Cassandra merely rolled her eyes, but if she had actually been offended Joel knew she wouldn’t have given much of a response at all. That was a good sign. 

“You can try,” the Seeker said, her attentions no longer on Varric. Which had been Joel’s goal, of course. 

“Don’t tempt me. I recently learned how to encase someone completely in ice. You’d be a Seeker icicle.”

“Now that I’d like to see,” Bull huffed out, bold laugh accompanying his words. Cassandra scoffed and Varric murmured something about ‘story material’ under his breath.

Joel made to add that he was, of course, joking when he spotted a familiar plant. On top of a small hill grew a patch of Elfroot. They were running a bit low on regenerative potions, the Elfroot long gone from his inventory. Not to mention the growing need for them back at Haven for the ever increasing refugees of this damned rebellion. Given the risky path to Redcliffe, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to grab more supplies.

“Hold a moment,” Joel said suddenly, his deeper voice calm as he made his way to the hill. Rocks surrounded the hill, and he attempted to walk up them before slipping back down to the ground quickly. Alright, jumping it was. If his siblings could see him now, he thought wryly. He could practically hear his older sister’s voice in his head. ‘You can’t hold your head high while jumping like a fool, Joel.’ He thanked the Maker for his family’s helpful but very distant support of the Inquisition. 

Sighing, the mage put his staff down to the ground and leapt towards the plant, vainly reaching towards the large rocks for handholds. Once again, he slipped backwards, this time falling on his backside.

He could hear Varric chuckle in response. “Need help there, Bright Eyes?” the dwarf asked, the words rolling off his lips teasingly.

Joel’s ‘bright eyes’ did not dignify Varric's sarcasm with any response as he got up. The first time they had truly talked after settling down in Haven, Varric had commented on just how bright green his eyes were. Too bright, even. The dwarf had asked if magic was at play, but the mage quickly shot down that musing with a laugh. He didn't need anyone getting the wrong idea that he would be so vain to use magic for something that came naturally. Joel had his mother’s same vivid, green eyes. If a rumor of anything otherwise somehow reached her she would come down to Haven herself, pulling him by his ear all the way home. 

Varric had shrugged, laughed lightly, and the nickname came soon after. He stated that Joel could have maidens falling at his feet with those bright eyes of his, if he could ever peel himself away from his books. That was unlikely, though. Just because the Circles were gone did not mean Joel’s thirst for knowledge had disappeared with them. More often than not, Joel found himself using candlelight to read into the long hours of the night rather than drinking at the small tavern. Books didn’t judge your flirting skills, or lack thereof. 

“I’m not letting you climb on my shoulders, Varric,” Joel answered, feeling heat begin to spread over his cheeks. Thank the Maker he had thought to grow a beard - he wasn’t a fan of his fair skin mimicking the fire red color of his hair. Looking like a tomato only had so many advantages.

“How about you get on mine, then?”

The words had barely reached the mage’s ears before his sense of balance was thrown off. Sharp horns were the first thing Joel registered as he was pulled backwards. His instincts kicked in and he grabbed the closest horn to help him gain back some control. He hated being surprised. 

His hips were surrounded by two, large hands that practically engulfed him. They pulled and lifted him, setting him down on a warm, sturdy shoulder.

The Iron Bull’s shoulder.

Joel’s right hand curled around the horn, his other hand gripping the mass of Bull’s shoulder for support. Just as Joel gained some semblance of balance, the Qunari stood up.

The increased height was dizzying. Joel’s breath left him instantly, a sharp gasp released from his lips. He did not dare move, his fear of falling off quite real. Joel's knuckles turned white on the hand that wrapped steadily around Bull's horn.

Both of Iron Bull’s massive hands gripped the mage’s thighs tightly, keeping him steady. The heat that radiated from them sent a shiver down Joel's spine. He had never been so close to the Qunari. Surely he could feel every tremor that Joel’s body emitted.

If Joel’s face had been burning before, it was a house fire by now.

“Bet you can reach it now,” Bull uttered, his voice so gravel deep it was almost a purr. And Joel could feel it. He could feel every single damn vibration of Bull's voice and the barest inch that his muscles moved as he held the mage up.

Joel’s nails dug into the Qunari’s tougher skin, yet Bull did not seem to notice. Instead, he looked ahead expectantly, causing Joel to focus back on the Elfroot that was now directly in front of his face. Perhaps if he had been less flustered and more observant he would have seen the small, barely there smirk that graced The Iron Bull’s lips.

Slowly, the mage reached out. His fingers touched the Elfroot and with one hard yank he freed the plant, its roots tearing easily from the earth.

“Got it,” Joel murmured. His voice was softer than he wanted it to be, more of a croaked whisper than his usual steady lilt. His brow furrowed, for once unsure of how to react properly. He still couldn’t move an inch from where he was placed on Bull’s shoulder. If he moved surely everything would fall apart. That’s how it felt, at least. With the added height came an obvious lack of control. He had to trust Bull not to drop him, and Joel didn’t like giving people the opportunity to let him down. In this case, literally. 

The idea of being put back down on the ground, though, left a surprisingly sour taste in his mouth. That couldn’t be a normal response. What was wrong with him?

He could not remember the last time he had been in such a position. Not since he was a child, at least. Joel was considered the type of person who lifted others on his shoulders. He was never the one being lifted. 

Apparently Bull had not gotten the memo.

With the Elfroot safely in his hands, Bull turned them around to face Cassandra and Varric. The Seeker’s eyes had widened marginally in obvious shock, but little else marred her features to give a hint of her thoughts. Varric, unfortunately, was quite open about his amusement.

“How’s the view from up there?” the dwarf asked.

Joel swallowed dryly, a snippy reply on the tip of his tongue. Yet no words left him, his mind focusing on the warmth spreading through his entire body in ways he couldn't have anticipated. His skin seemed to vibrate with awareness and something else he couldn’t quite name. 

Not trusting his voice, the mage instead threw the Elfroot at Varric, who caught it easily enough even with the vicious force behind it.

“View’s pretty good from where I am.”

Joel froze once more, Bull’s gruff, unbearably appealing voice stealing any thoughts of wit he might have had. Unable to help himself any longer, the mage finally looked down at his Qunari ‘ladder’. One, slightly narrowed eye stared right back at him. Joel felt pleasantly trapped in that intense gray gaze. Somehow lighter. As if he truly weighed nothing at all. And it wasn’t Bull’s physical strength that made him feel this way. It was something more. Something unnamable. 

When Bull said ‘view’ had he meant…?

A sudden, purposeful cough destroyed the moment like a glass bowl falling off the counter. 

“Bull, would you put the Herald down? We have much ground to cover before we reach Redcliffe. I have no wish to be out in the open after dark.”

Cassandra’s tone was sturdy, but not harsh. In fact, her face seemed a bit redder than before. Joel wondered why, confusion crossing his face as he took in her appearance.

Once more, his sense of balance altered. Bull kneeled down, bringing the mage closer to the ground.

“Right,” the Qunari replied, hands steadying Joel as he gently slid him off his shoulder towards the earth.

When Joel’s feet met the grass, he could not convince himself to move out of Bull's warm grip. The Iron Bull pushed himself back up to his full height after a moment of hesitation, as if they were both savoring the unexpected contact . As he did so, one hand slowly grazed up and over the long expanse of the mage’s back. It was a touch as soft as a butterfly's wing and Joel's entire focus was on that subtle caress. The muscles in his back tensed, as if ready for battle. Yet the thought of running was unappealing. That same hand crept up the nape of his neck, running softly through his hair. The touch sent chills racing across the mage's body as Bull's hand finally settled on his shoulder. It was a casual end for a not so casual journey.

“Ready when you are,” Bull said. Even though Joel did not dare look behind him, he somehow knew those words were for him.

If he was being honest, his brain had gone blank the moment Bull had put his warm hands on him. He didn't want to move from this spot where Bull had touched him for the first time, for fear that it would never happen again. He’d prefer to stay as the puddle of goo that he felt like, heat flooding every nerve of his body. But that type of thinking wouldn’t help them reach Redcliffe any sooner. He was the Maker’'s blessed Herald of Andraste and they had a mission, damn it all to the Fade. He shouldn’t waste time enjoying these odd sensations. They were too confusing. Why did Bull have to go and...do whatever he had done to him?

“Yeah, okay,” Joel finally rasped out, taking a monumental step forward down the path they had been following. The movement caused Bull’s hand to leave his shoulder and the mage missed the contact as soon as it was gone. 

Varric snickered but followed, and Joel heard Cassandra groan in annoyance. Bull was oddly silent but the mage didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. His rough voice was a distraction and they needed to make it to Redcliffe before nightfall.

Besides, he could feel Bull’s gaze on him. And that somehow felt more physical than any touch they had shared so far. 

It was going to be a long journey.


	2. Fireman Carry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t need to drink to feel good, boss,” Bull whispered, his voice surprisingly soft. It startled Joel more than if he had growled the words out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, and gave kudos! You guys keep me going, truly. 
> 
> Once again, a big thank you to the ever wonderful Beta Paragadesluster! Please read their awesome fanfics, their writing is truly amazing.
> 
> For a photo of the Inquisitor's appearance, see here - https://pastelpinkkadan.tumblr.com/post/170172566357/this-is-my-inquisitor-joel-trevelyan-look-at

2\. Fireman Carry

Was this his fourth or fifth drink? Maker, he couldn’t remember. 

Emerald eyes stared into yet another empty mug with a mix of slow wonder and utter frustration.The Inquisitor, the adored Herald of Andraste, was unmistakably drunk. He felt _silly_. The tavern’s candles were much too bright, and Joel had to focus his gaze downward to ease the ache. He didn’t know if he could look up anymore, honestly. Not without becoming dizzy and falling off his stool. 

This wasn’t his usual scene. He could count the number of times he’d been drunk on one hand, this time included. But he could understand the appeal; his body had warmed considerably, a pleasant hum spreading across his slowly numbing nerves. If he’d fallen and smack his face on the wooden floor at that moment he probably wouldn’t have felt it until the morning. 

Joel clutched his mug tighter, as if that would somehow sober him up. He did enjoy the lightness that came with being drunk. The freedom, the slow meandering of thoughts that brought out feelings he wouldn’t allow himself while sober. The yearnings.

The situation was long overdue, though. Too much had happened within the last few months. Going forward through time with Dorian, the fall of Haven, and the set-up of Skyhold. His mind still couldn’t keep up with it all, especially now. Yet he’d forced himself to get through every meeting and mission without a moment’s rest. 

The killing of a dragon in the Hinterlands had been the final straw. Only days ago Joel and his team had stumbled upon a high dragon and her young. They’d nearly been burned alive as a result, his ice magic could only do so much. His training as a Knight-Enchanter was still underway, and he’d yet to learn all of the most useful spells for such close combat. 

Iron Bull had been _thrilled_ , of course. 

The Qunari had yelled and laughed heartily throughout the entire battle. He’d attacked the dragon head on, and more than once Joel had had to heal him during the fight, quickly depleting his potion supply. Bull had simply fought harder, and soon enough the dragon had lain dead before them.

Joel had sunk to the ground the second he heard the dragon’s last breath, relief flooding his entire body. He’d groaned aloud, raking blood-soaked fingers through his hair without even thinking about it. At the time, he hadn’t cared. It would just blend in anyway.

Dorian didn’t shared the same sentiments, muttering indecent curses at the beast while attempting to get blood stains out of his mage armor. Cassandra was unconcerned, her no-nonsense voice commenting that they were lucky not to be burned to a crisp as she cleaned off her bloody sword. Joel could see the tired lines on her face and the tension in her body, though, and he threw her his last potion without a word. She took it, her lips quirking upwards to the side briefly. 

Bull’s form caught Joel’s eye as he turned away from Cassandra, the man’s impressive stature unburdened with fatigue like the rest of them.The Qunari was covered in the remnants of the battle, blood staining his limited armor. He held his axe above his shoulder, breathing heavily as he looked down at Joel. 

A smirk surfaced on Bull’s face, his full mouth chuckling wryly. The sound was quiet in the aftermath but Joel could feel it all the way to his soul. He shivered, and looked away blaming it on exhaustion. Though he suddenly did not feel so tired anymore. 

“So, how was it for you, boss?” Bull asked, voice dipping lower than expected. How did such a gruff voice manage to sound so unbearably smooth? It sunk into Joel’s very skin, which had unfortunately deepened to several shades of red. 

“Um,” Joel had started, but stopped. His tongue felt thick, and his throat had become desert dry. Really, innuendos _now?_ Of all times? Joel didn’t currently have the brain capacity or energy to comprehend everything that that sentence meant. Or didn’t mean. Or could have possibly meant. 

Fuck. 

Bull, the bastard, looked positively gleeful at the Inquisitor’s response. Or lack there of. He huffed another laugh, smile broadening as he switched the axe to his other shoulder. The Qunari’s muscles noticeably flexed with the action, and Joel had to wonder if he’d done it on purpose. 

“That good, huh?” Bull continued on. He hummed, the sound oddly mimicking the dragon they had just fought. It sent heat straight to Joel’s stomach, pooling low. The reaction surprised him, and the mage could only let his mouth hang slightly open as a result. 

He had to think of something. Anything! Surely, he was wittier than this. Bull couldn’t reduce him to such a mess with only a few suggestive words. By Andraste, he was an educated man! He could tête a tête with the best of them!

Clenching his jaw, the mage forced himself up from his spot on the ground. His skin was flushed, and Joel was thankful that he could blame it on the battle they had just fought. Bull couldn’t get the best of him all the time. Otherwise he’d never live it down. His grip on his staff tightened, and before he knew what his body was doing he’d taken several steps towards the Qunari. Bull had looked down, expression flickering with curiosity even as he remained still and waiting. 

“...Actually, I think it could have been a little _harder_.”

The words slipped through his lips, which had morphed into a mirroring smirk. Bull’s eye had flickered with something at the words, but he wasn’t a Ben-Hassrath for nothing. Joel couldn’t understand what it meant.

Oh Maker had that been too much? Sexual puns were not his forte. That was more Dorian or Bull’s area. It usually helped to have material to work off of, which Joel was sorely limited on. At least with Qunari. And men.

“What I meant was-”

His next words were cut off, however, by a burst of Bull’s deep laughter. The sound was booming, and nearly made the mage jump. 

“Good one, boss,” Bull said, still laughing heartily. The Qunari reached forward then, placing one of his large hands on Joel’s shoulders. He squeezed, the pressure a hair away from painful. Yet Joel oddly felt more stable because of it. 

The touch lingered between them. Joel began to feel warm again, right where Bull grabbed him. And it wasn’t due to the dragon, this time. Green eyes looked up at grey. The Qunari still had that same expression that Joel couldn’t decipher. Did Bull even know he was doing it? Surely he did.

“Bull,” Joel started, but his throat became too dry to finish his sentence. What did he want to say, anyway? What could he say? All he knew was that he didn’t want Bull to remove his hand anytime soon. And it appeared Bull didn’t either. 

“Yeah, Boss?” Bull prompted, and Joel’s heart nearly stopped when he took a step closer. The mage opened his mouth to continue speaking, yet still nothing. Maybe if Bull stopped making his damn knees weak he’d be able to say something. 

“Are we going to stand around the rotting dragon carcass forever, or will we be returning home anytime soon?”

Dorian’s voice broke the atmosphere between them, and Joel quickly flinched away out of Bull’s hand. His eyes widened, realization dawning on him a second later. What had he been about to say? Something embarrassing no doubt. 

Bull took a step back as well, his face remaining neutral and infuriatingly impassive. What Joel wouldn’t give to have that skill set. Instead, his face remained an open book at all times. Unfair, really.

“Right, we should get back to Skyhold,” Joel said, turning and making a beeline for Dorian. 

He didn’t look Bull in the eye on their journey back, or even when they were safely behind Skyhold’s walls. In fact, it was much later into the night before he saw the Qunari again. 

Joel made it a point to not turn to drink as a crutch, as his brother often did. But tonight he needed to take the edge off or he would snap at the next person who looked at him. Books or training only did so much to calm his spirit. His mind craved the euphoria only mead could provide. 

That was when he ran into Bull, and the Qunari had invited him over to drink before Joel could fathom declining. The drink he had pushed into his hands had been unlike anything he’d drunk before. It tasted absurdly bitter, with a bite that burned his very insides. The mage wouldn’t have been surprised if his throat had started bleeding. And yet, Bull had been so happy when he’d taken a drink. So, Joel continued on, filing Bull’s laugh into his memories when he needed to think of something lovely.

“You good, boss?” Joel glanced at Bull, surprised he was there. He’d been so lost in his memories he has forgotten where he was. He nodded his head slowly, fearful of becoming dizzier in the process.

“I’m fan...fantastic” Joel answered, lips having trouble forming the words. Why was the letter ‘f’ so hard to say when drunk?

Still, he didn’t want Bull to think he couldn’t handle his drink. He turned towards the other with far more force than necessary, having one hand one the bar to keep his balance in the chair. 

“See?” he said, using his other hand to lift up the mug for show. It was tilted slightly, though, and the remaining contents soaked the floor in a matter of seconds. Joel’s green eyes simply watched the occurrence, brow furrowing in confusion as he processed what was happening.

He held the now empty mug up to his face, as if some precious liquid was still hidden inside. Realizing that no more drink would magically appear, Joel pushed the mug to Bull’s face.

“More?” he demanded, though the tone was more questioning than he’d intended. 

“I think you’ve had enough.”

Bull placed his large hand over the mug, pushing it down. Joel frowned, not liking that answer. “No, no, no,” He murmured, shaking his head faster than necessary. He cradled the mug against his chest, leaning his side on the bar so as to not fall over.

“I feel good now….’aven’t felt that in a while. One more? Please?”

Joel heard Bull move before he saw it. The Qunari leaned into his space, grabbing the mug and setting it on the bar. He didn’t pull away, though. Instead he continued to stay in Joel’s little bubble. The mage had no choice but to look up in response, eyes glassy but curious. 

“You don’t need to drink to feel good, boss,” Bull whispered, his voice surprisingly soft. It startled Joel more than if he had growled the words out. 

Joel’s drunk brain attempted to decipher what that meant, but couldn’t. He wanted to correct Bull, tell him that he knew that. That he wasn’t a drunk and tonight was a special occasion, that was all. He knew plenty of other ways to feel good.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if that last point was true anymore. It hadn’t been for the last few months, at least.

“...I can’t feel my legs,” he said instead, arms wrapping around himself since his mug had been taken away. It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t know how he was going to make it back to his room that night.

“Alright, time to go.” 

Joel wanted to reiterate his lack of movement to the Qunari, but Bull had other plans. 

Bull must have had a higher tolerance, because he scooped Joel up, over his shoulder with relative ease and speed. His chest was draped over the Qunari’s broad back, Joel’s arms hanging limply. His feet dangled, but Bull held him steady with his hands on his thighs and lower back. 

The position sobered Joel up as much as it could, though everything still retained a fuzzy quality. Numbed as he was, he became acutely aware of Bull’s hands, of the gentle hold on his thighs. Then they were moving, and Joel didn’t dare look up for fear of meeting the eyes of one of his companions. Or losing his dinner from earlier due to the spinning room. A little warning would have been nice. 

Instead of looking around, he focused down. That was almost worse. His current position left very little to the imagination in regards to Bull’s impressive backside. The muscles in the Qunari’s lower back, his thick thighs. Maker, Joel had a front row seat to the best view in Thedas. 

The combination of the alcohol and the proximity to his embarrassing crush was creating horrifying results. Joel could feel the something stirring within him, heat pouring into every dulled nerve. His stomach tightened, a low, hot pressure beginning to build deep in his gut. 

Joel froze, praying to the Maker or any other god that would listen that they would arrive to their destination soon. Or that his reacting body would stop. Not now. Not when Bull would be able to feel it.

Someone must have been listening, as they arrived at Joel’s room quicker than he expected. That or his sense of time was just incredibly muddled from whatever was in that Fade cursed drink Bull had given him. 

Gently, always gently, Bull lifted Joel off his shoulders and set him down on his bed. The mage automatically sat down, gripping the edge of the bed to regain his balance. Even if the carry hadn’t been the most comfortable position, he already missed the closeness. 

Bull stood up to his full height, gazing down at the Inquisitor, nowhere near as drunk as Joel. 

“Alright boss, rest up. You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning but-”

“Is it the beard?” Joel slurred, cutting off the Qunari.

“...What?” Bull asked, face open with confusion for the briefest moment.

“It’s the beard...always the beard. You hate it.”

Bull chuckled, light and perhaps even adoring. Or maybe Joel was hearing things.

“Ah, come on boss. A little facial hair never hurt anyone. Besides, you know I have a weakness for redheads.”

“Don’t believe you,” Joel countered, almost a whine. He really wished he would stop talking. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?

“You do weird things. But you don’t... _do_ things. Just carry me. And say things. S’weird.”

“What things don’t I do, Joel?” Bull asked, curious rather than accusing.

Joel had to take a minute before responding. His name sounded so amazing coming from Bull’s lips. He shifted on the bed, eyes going to the floor. He felt too hot. Too exposed. 

Why did he like it?

“Like the tavern girls,” He muttered, shame heating his face. “They talk _all_ the time. You...touch _them_. You kiss _them_. You...it’s the beard. I know it is-”

The feeling of Bull tilting his head up with his hand stopped his sentence cold. He hadn’t heard Bull move, the distance between them practically nonexistent. 

Bull’s lips pressed against his own, hot like the flames Joel could conjure if he set his mind to it. And this felt magical. The kiss was steady, but not forceful. There was an unspoken safety in Bull’s kiss. He still had a hand under Joel’s chin, keeping him in place as the Qunari pressed forward just a bit more.

It was testing, Bull never trying to open Joel’s lips or push more than needed. Slow, drawn out and lingering. As if Bull wanted to prove something.

Joel’s body had gone still, everything lighting up inside him. He gasped softly, not meaning to but unable to help his reaction. Electricity sparked up his spine, pleasure blossoming over his lips. He’d needed this and hadn’t even known it. 

Something…unfurled inside him, his hands reaching with a frantic energy towards Bull as if he would leave if he didn’t hold him to his lips.

“Easy,” Bull whispered against his lips, kissing him again right after. The kiss was chaste, but Joel reveled in the moment. Heat surfaced to his face, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

Bull’s other hand gently cupped the side of his face, and Joel moved his hands to grasp onto the man’s wrists. His mind was too hazy to think of any other place. He just hung on for dear life, Bull’s lips his lifeboat and the sea monster simultaneously.

The world spun as Bull softly pushed Joel backwards, never breaking the connection of their lips. His back met the soft mattress, Bull’s full weight hovering over him. 

Maker, Bull was so big. His frame engulfed him easily, the feeling foreign and thrilling to the mage. Joel arched into him as much as he could, but Bull barely let him move. That was somehow better. Pinned gently but effectively.

This was better than drinking. This was euphoria. He hadn’t known he could feel such things. Especially from a simple, rather innocent kiss. If that felt this good, then he could only imagine how other things would feel. 

The sudden decreased weight on the bed made Joel flinch. Bull’s lips had left his, and obvious confusion crossed his features. Green eyes narrowed, but Joel couldn’t make himself move to figure out what had happened. All he knew was that Bull had stopped, and that was dreadful.

“We should talk when you’re sober. Though you probably won’t remember this in the morning,” Bull’s voice said, breaking through his thoughts.

A familiar, large hand came down to cup his face once more. Bull’s thumb traced over his bottom lip, and Joel opened his mouth slightly, his tongue darting out to taste Bull’s finger. He groaned softly at the sensation, the ideas of what else he wouldn’t mind in his mouth making his body sing. Bull’s eyes darkened at that, fingers stroking down through Joel’s beard. 

“Don’t worry about the beard, boss. It’s hotter than you think.”

Another chuckle came from the Qunari, and he lingered a moment more before taking his hand away. 

Joel barely registered Bull wishing him a goodnight, leaving, and closing the door gently behind him. 

He was right, of course. Joel later woke up with a demon of a headache and no memory after the third drink. 

But before he drifted off to sleep, he touched his lips with his fingertips. They still buzzed, sensitive and red. The taste of Bull lingered in his mouth; the flavors of earth and spice and the beginnings of Joel’s new form of intoxication. 

There were other ways to feel good after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, suggestions, and critiques are all appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	3. Bridal Carry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingers dug into his skin. Strong, rough, perfect. They played and tweaked and pushed in places he’d never considered.
> 
> "Bull, I-I can’t!-"
> 
> "Yes, you can. Let yourself go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, and gave kudos! You guys keep me going, truly.
> 
> Once again, a big thank you to the ever wonderful Beta Paragadesluster! Please read their awesome fanfics, their writing is truly amazing.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Pinning down, Oral Sex, and slight violence (not in a sexual way)
> 
> For a photo of the Inquisitor's appearance, see here - https://pastelpinkkadan.tumblr.com/post/170172566357/this-is-my-inquisitor-joel-trevelyan-look-at

  1. Bridal Carry



Dorian heard the frantic footsteps before he saw the Inquisitor in all his frenzied glory. It wasn’t unusual to see the other man come to the library to chat. He was Dorian’s only friend, really. The only other mage he could talk to that didn’t give him odd looks about his necromancy. 

They’d had more than one late night filled with talks of magic and its infinite possibilities. Dorian would relay tales of his youth in the Imperium and Joel would talk about the drama in the Circles. Lately, though, Dorian had noticed his friend appeared more distracted. He’d wanted to ask about it but felt that prying was perhaps not the best option. If Joel wished to let Dorian in on his troubles, then he would at his own pace. 

Apparently, that time had finally come.

Joel raced up the stairs, stopping just short of the chair Dorian resided in. He stood directly in front of the other mage, and Dorian looked up from his book, waiting for his friend to speak.

The Inquisitor simply stood there, though, appearing determined but silent.

Clearing his throat, Dorian marked his place in the book and set it aside.

“Right, something you need? Not that I don’t appreciate being stared at. I always knew you had good taste, but the silence is a bit concerning.”

“How do I get a guy to like me?”

Now it was Dorian’s turn to be silent. He pursed his lips, leaning forward in his seat. His hands threaded together in front of him, before a cheeky smile graced his lips, teeth showing like a trouble making fox.

“Why, Inquisitor, I had no idea! I’m flattered, of course. My charms can only be denied for so long before-”

“What? No! It’s not _you_ , it’s,” but Joel stopped short of a name. He clamped his mouth shut, as if speaking the name would make said individual appear. Unless the person was already close. Like Solas? Oh Maker, Dorian hoped it wasn’t Solas. That was not an image he needed in his head. 

“I am joking, of course, my friend,” Dorian replied, deciding to end Joel’s embarrassment. His face was starting to turn the same color as his hair. Endearing, but he doubted Joel appreciated it.

Dorian leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. Joel had come to him for serious advice. Best to not tease too much too quickly.

The tension that had built within the Inquisitor seemed to dissipate, and Joel let his shoulders relax. “Sorry. This isn’t something I thought I would ever need advice on. But I trust you and you...well, you-”

“Have a whirlwind of experience?” Dorian teased. He knew what Joel meant, but it was still amusing to see him squirm and trip over his words. Make the Inquisitor discuss the freedom of mages or the study of magic and he could talk eloquently for hours. But romance? Sex? Now that’s when he became tongue tied. 

“More or less,” Joel continued, taking a seat on the stool close to Dorian’s chair. He ran his fingers over his hair, sliding it back before speaking again. “I’ve only been with women, and they’re wonderful don’t get me wrong. But I’ve always known that I considered men an option too. I just never hit it off with anyone. Not until _this_  guy.”

Dorian nodded when Joel paused, making a ‘go on’ motion with the swish of his hand. “And now I’m regretting that. Maybe I would be better at this if I’d tried with others.”

“Or you could have had bad, inexperienced sex with men that wouldn’t look at you the day after. Given what you’ve told me about the Circles, that seems more likely.” Dorian was no stranger to passion at night, ignorance by daylight. Joel didn’t appear the type to stomach such things. 

“Maybe,” Joel conceded, chuckling a bit. “But at least I’d be able to proposition this guy.”

“So, it’s just sex you’re wanting?”

“I couldn’t really say,” was the Inquisitor’s honest answer. He let out a long breath, lips quirking up to the side of his mouth. “I don’t think he’s the relationship type. But he’s definitely flirty. And I’ve been flirting with him. Sometimes.”

“You sly dog,” Dorian drawled. 

“Shut up,” Joel retorted, lacking any real heat. He mashed his lips together, seeming to contemplate his next words. “With women, making the first moves felt expected of me. I understood that and didn’t mind. Now I’m unsure what the first moves even are. This guy, I don’t know if he’d appreciate me barging in like some gallant hero trying to sweep him off his feet.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, giving an incredulous look. “Did that work with the women you were with? Seems a bit old fashioned.”

Joel reddened at that, huffing out a laugh and lacing his fingers together in front of him. “Alright, maybe I wasn’t quite the ‘hero’ type at the circles.”

“Oh I’m sure you were very dashing,” Dorian teased. 

“More like a medium fish in a _very_  small pond. And now I’ve got some catching up to do. I really like him. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He whispers, and people pay attention. Maker, he’s like a bright light. He’s so warm and _honest_. More than he knows, I think.”

Joel lowered his head a bit, letting his laced fingers cover his mouth. He didn’t continue, but Dorian could empathize with the sentiments. By now he’d learned that attachments weren’t possible for him. Not in the romantic sense. Maybe things would be different for his friend. He hoped they would.

“My advice? Keep up the flirting. Let things flow naturally. One person doesn’t have to do all of the pursuing. If you like, perhaps wine and dine him with some of that fancy Orlesian wine you managed to snag the last time we were out. In your room, of course.”

“Dorian,” the Inquisitor responded, tone laced with a fake disapproving tone. 

“Fine, fine, but do keep up the flirting. Eventually _that_   conversation will happen. And alcohol does help stir up courage. Which, my dear friend, you seem to need.”

An honest laugh left the Inquisitor's lips as he got up from the stool. He placed a hand on Dorian’s arm, squeezing lightly before retreating. “Thank you,” Joel murmured, voice sincere. “I’m glad we can talk like this.”

“You’re a good man, Joel.  You deserve good things. Don’t forget that,” Dorian said, softer than he intended. 

Joel’s eyes widened at that, frozen for a moment as he took in the words. Eventually he hummed as a response, making sure to smile his thanks as he made to leave. Dorian grabbed his wrist just before he passed, brow furrowed and expression turning deadly serious. “Tell me just one thing.” 

The Inquisitor stopped, concern flashing over his features. He nodded his head, nervous as he waited for Dorian to continue.

“...Please, for the love of the Maker, tell me it’s not Solas.”

Joel’s responding laughter could be heard all the way into the main hall.

\-----------

The next few days blended together. Each morning more paperwork managed to appear on his desk. Preparations were still being made to gain an invitation to the Winter Palace. Soldiers and Healers alike constantly needed supplies. 

Joel hadn’t been able to leave Skyhold for a moment. 

He was beginning to grow frustrated. Even a trip to the dull Hinterlands would have taken a bit of the edge off. Yet at every turn he was being pulled into another favor or meeting at the War Table. 

The Garden was running low on supplies and seeds. Please talk to this nobleman at once before he becomes offended and slanders the Inquisition’s name. Should a small group of spies or soldiers look into this ancient tomb? Give us the answers now!

He could only be surrounded by requests for so long before he would go insane. 

Did they always need his opinion? Joel almost wished they didn’t. There was no telling how many wrong decisions he had already made. How many lives it would cost. 

The weight on his shoulders increased with every step that he took towards his room. Josephine had given him several scrolls to look over before tomorrow, but more paperwork was surely waiting for him. Perhaps he could take a quick nap before going over everything. The world could wait twenty minutes, couldn’t it?

_‘Take a nap, take a nap, take a nap,’_ Joel mentally ordered to himself, hoping the repeated mantra would make it a reality. He was so consumed in his thoughts it took his far longer than it should have to realize another person was in his room.

There, sitting casually on his bed, was Iron Bull. The scrolls in Joel’s hands fell to the floor. His face, unprepared for the visit, showed the open surprise he felt. 

Bull, for his part, didn’t appear bothered. He turned towards Joel, his expression unreadable. Perhaps this was business about the Chargers?

“So, listen. I’ve caught the hints. I get what you’re saying. You want to ride the Bull.” 

Okay, not about the Chargers then.

Joel couldn’t reply. His throat constricted, becoming dry as Bull’s bold words replayed in his mind. 

Bull moved away from the bed. His hulking frame causing Joel to look up as he approached. Bull’s face remained neutral, which was wildly unfair considering everything he had just said. Joel had barely admitted the truth to himself, now Bull was shoving it in his face.

Why wasn’t he mad about that? Why did it make his skin pleasantly warm, instead?

“Can’t say I blame you,” Bull continued, only a few steps away from Joel now. The way he sauntered over was practically obscene. It was still a respectable distance, but Joel felt as if he was suffocating on his presence. And yet he wanted Bull closer.

“But I’m not sure you know what you’re asking. Not sure if you’re ready for it.”

_That_ got a reaction from the Inquisitor. Heat flared through his face, and the hands at his side tightened into fist. Was it possible to be angry _and_   turned on? How dare Bull imply such a thing? Joel wasn’t a child. Sex didn’t frighten him. Yes, Bull was bigger but to imply that Joel could not handle himself during sex was ludicrous. 

“Oh, I’m ready for it,” Joel replied, more bravado in his voice than even he was expecting. It was partially true, of course. He was immensely attracted to Bull. He just hadn’t thought they’d do this _now_.

“See, you say that, but...you _really_ don’t know what that means.”

Bull’s calm tone infuriated Joel more than he’d expected. It was like a ripe fruit being dangled in front of his face. The way Bull studied him, gaging his reaction, didn’t help. Was he hoping Joel would reject him? Say he was right? Fat chance. 

Joel tilted his chin up slightly, a new flare of confidence energizing his actions. “So why don’t you show me?” he quipped back, voice low and suggestive. Fine, if Bull wanted to play that way then he would. The Qunari wasn’t getting out of this that easily. Not when he’d caught Joel so off guard. Payback was only fair.

Except, of course, he hadn’t expected Bull to _actually_   show him. 

The Qunari closed the distance between them in seconds. Joel felt his wrists being grasp and lifted upwards gently. Before he could understand what was happening, his back was pinned to the wall behind him. His wrists were held above his head by only one of Bull’s hands. The other hand settled on his waist, keeping him to the wall with obvious strength. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, but the pressure was there. 

A gasp left Joel’s lips, too surprised to even think about covering up the reaction. Green eyes lifted, gazing into that gray, intrigued gaze.

Joel should have felt horrible and trapped in such a position. It was too vulnerable. So why wasn’t he trying to get out of the hold?

Bull’s presence was overwhelming, but also reassuring. The Qunari would never hurt him. Joel knew that without a doubt.

“Last chance,” Bull murmured so softly, Joel almost wasn’t sure he’d heard it. 

He felt torn. He shouldn’t want this. To be pinned down, hands above his head, at Bull’s mercy. It was shameful. What would people say if they knew the great, powerful Inquisitor enjoyed such things? 

Joel could barely wrap his head around it all. The thought of Bull leaving, though, sent a spike of fear through him for the first time. 

“Won’t you please stay?” Joel heard himself whisper but couldn’t remember making the decision to speak.

Bull’s gaze softened toward him. The corners of his lips lifting into a small, barely there smile.  It was the most open look Bull had ever let him see. Joel was already enamored with the expression, and he realized then just how dangerous this could be.

_‘I could really fall for you,’_ Joel thought, but didn’t dare speak.

The hand that captured his wrists slowly released them. Joel barely had enough time to put his hands down before he felt himself being swept up in a large embrace. Bull wrapped his arms around him, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. 

The Inquisitor felt himself flounder for a second, unused to his feet not being on the ground. Bull’s steady strength kept him up, though. Joel placed his arms around Bull’s neck, not sure where else to put them. He didn’t know what to do with his legs, either. Everything was happening so quickly.

He didn’t have to ponder long, though. 

Soft sheets met his back as Bull placed him down on his bed. Joel let his hands flop beside his head. The Qunari hovered over him, and Joel felt his skin burn at the look Bull gave him. It was heated, lustful. 

Bull placed a hand on the Joel's chest, slowly letting it trail upwards. Even through his clothes it sent shivers down his spine. 

Bull’s hand made its way to his left wrist, grasping it with a loose grip. Joel’s breath hitched, and Bull’s gaze narrowed with a smirk on his lips. 

“You like that?” Bull questioned, his voice a growl in Joel’s ear.

Joel couldn’t reply, unable to do more than groan lowly. His throat was so dry. Would he ever be able to speak again?

In lieu of speech, he wiggled his fingers of his free hand. Bull caught the movement and chuckled. Without another word, he captured Joel’s other wrist. The Inquisitor was now thoroughly pinned. 

It felt grounding. As if Bull was a shield from the outside world that waited for them. Joel had forgotten all about the paperwork, the meetings, the expectations. 

He could only focus on Bull. The heat of the hands that grabbed him. The way he leaned forward, causing Joel to raise his hips until his legs were forced to wrap around his waist.  

Bull bent down, his lips coming into contact with the heated skin of Joel’s neck. The Qunari kissed the patch of skin gently, letting his tongue swipe over the area as he lavished it with attention. Joel felt the slight graze of teeth, tingling and making his toes curl. 

He turned his head to the side, giving the Qunari more access to his neck. His breath caught as he was gifted with the sight of his pinned hand. 

The image should have evoked a sense of violence, but it didn’t. He felt freer than ever before in the security of Bull’s embrace. He could give all his burdens and fears to Bull and trust that he wouldn’t turn him away. He was safe. 

His attention was drawn back to reality when Bull bit down harder on his neck. Joel groaned, briefly thinking about the marks that would appear later. 

“There we go,” Joel heard Bull say, lifting away from his neck.

Bull looked down at the Inquisitor, face beginning to flush. A nice red mark was blooming on his neck, adorning his skin perfectly. 

“Just focus on me, boss,” Bull ordered, soft and low. “You don’t need to think of anything else.”

For the next few hours, Bull made sure Joel could do nothing but moan.

\-----------

Traveling through Crestwood without the constant rain made the journey much more pleasant. They hadn’t been back since the Mayor’s trial, but there was always unfinished business to be done it seemed.

_Fingers dug into his skin. Strong, rough, perfect. They played and tweaked and pushed in places he’d never considered._

Judith had a plethora of information to give them. And beasts to kill. They were energizing quests, to say the least. It made Joel aware of just how sore he was all over. He hoped his fighting style didn’t show that.

_ Everything’s so sensitive. Pushing further, legs hiked higher. ‘Why does he know more about my body than I do?’ _

It was almost comical when ‘bandits’ were next on their list. Bandits were easy enough to take care of, and even easier to find.

_Soft whimpers and low groans fill the room. He’s so loud, surely someone hears._

Varric gave the group a ‘heads up’, before shooting at the nearest bandit with his crossbow. Bull charged forward, crashing into two bandits at once. Dorian and Joel stayed a respectable distance away, Joel’s ice magic trapping a bandit from his feet to his waist. Training as a Knight-Enchanter didn’t mean he couldn’t resort to some old tricks.

_More, more, more, please more, don’t stop._

It was such a simple quest that Joel’s mind wandered. Two nights ago, his body had been put through trials he had never dreamed of. He still held the signs of the Bull’s handy work, red marks and bruises that somehow felt good to touch.

_‘Bull, I-I_ **_can’t_ ** _!-’ ‘Yes, you can. Let yourself go.’ _

The rogue appeared out of nowhere. Joel barely had enough time to dodge the dagger aiming for his side. He lashed out with his staff, the knight-enchanter blade activating instantly. The rogue, however, was nimble and dashed out of the way. What he hadn’t counted on was Joel’s charge forward, causing both of them to crash into one another and lose their balance.

_‘Let go, Joel.’_

Both men went tumbling down the hill, limbs entangled painfully as they rolled. Nails scraped along his arms and sides, but Joel was just grateful it wasn’t the dagger. 

They landed at the bottom of the hill with a crash. Joel started crawling away from the rogue as he tried to increase the distance between them. Staff still in his hand, he lifted himself up and attempted to gain his footing. The moment he placed the slightest pressure on his left leg hot pain shot up his nerves. 

He collapsed, surprised at the pain. Joel looked down the length of his body, leaning on his forearms to get a better look at his leg. It was already swelling. The lack of bones protruding out, however, was a good sign. 

“Shit,” he hissed, scooting backwards as much as he could. The rogue was beginning to find his bearings. He had to move, _now._

Time was not on his side, though. The rogue got to his feet, barely a scratch on his person. Joel heard the man curse before he jumped towards him.

Joel raised his staff instantly, blade forming with a burst of sharp energy. A groan of pain escaped the rogue’s lips. Blood slid down the staff, the sticky warmth coating Joel’s hands.

The bright light of blade shined from the other side of the man, the blade having gone clean through. Shaking hands grabbed the staff. For a moment Joel thought he would retaliate. 

A gurgle of agony and then silence. The knight-enchanter blade disappeared, and the inquisitor removed his staff from the enemy’s body. The rogue slumped forward, and Joel had a split set to roll out of the way.

Moving that quickly shot agony through his leg, but he ignored it. The rogue collapsed to the ground, unmoving. Joel sat up, staff still at hand and waiting. His hands were wet with blood. Who said mages didn’t get bloody?

“Boss!” Bull called out. Joel looked up the hill. His companions were sprinting towards him, clothes bloodied and a bit torn. They didn’t seem injured, though. Thank the Maker.

The Inquisitor made to stand, but quickly fell back to the ground wincing. Right. Broken leg. 

Bull reached him first, eye immediately scanning his form and the blood covering his hands. “Nice,” he commented, gesturing to the rogue. His toothy smile made warmth flutter in Joel’s stomach.

Joel offered a small smile in return, liking the little praise. It almost made him forget about the throbbing pain.  “He ended up worse, but I think my leg is broken.” 

“Can you put any pressure on it at all?” Bull asked, crouching down next to him. 

Joel shook his head. Adrenaline could only block out the pain for so long. And it was coming back in full force.

His hands twitched, body beginning to shake as he lifted up more to look at his leg. He needed his boot off as soon as possible. The barest touch of leather sent a keen ache through him. 

“Ah, shock’s wearing off,” he heard Bull mumble. 

Without another word, the Qunari moved. One arm cradled his back while the other reached under his knees and lifted. Soon, he was being hoisted up in Bull’s arms, feet dangling in the air. 

Joel placed his arms around Bull’s neck, holding on for dear life. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this. The way Bull picked him up so effortlessly. That small flutter that had started in his stomach felt as if it would burst. 

The movement shot pain through his leg, but anything would at that point. At least he didn’t have to hop back to camp. 

“Looks like the cover for my next romance novel,” Varric commented with a chuckle. 

Joel barely refrained from burying his face in Bull’s chest to hide the flush that had surfaced to his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome for the inspiration,” Joel replied, trying to laugh it off.

Bull’s hold tightened. The Inquisitor looked up at him, curious, but Bull’s face remained impassive. 

“Let’s head back to camp. You’re no good in this condition,” Bull said.

Joel couldn’t really argue with that. It wasn’t as if he could charge into battle. At least they’d achieved most of their goals that day before this. 

“I’ve got just the healing spell to mend bones, Joel,” Dorian offered as they began to walk towards the direction of their campsite. “It’ll take a few days to fully heal, of course, but the spell and a good night’s rest should do wonders. You see, it-”

Joel vaguely listened to Dorian as he explained the properties of the spell, but he was having a hard time focusing. 

He couldn’t ignore the pain completely, yet the sound of Bull’s steady breathing was unexpectedly soothing. His presence was overwhelming so close. He was always so warm, too. 

How was it that Bull could have such an effect on him by doing so little? Especially when they had done much more explicit things only days ago?

The memories surfaced from his mind, and this time Joel 

tilt his head into Bull’s chest. The scent of sweat from battle, musk, and spice flooded his senses. It was something distinctly Bull, and Joel felt him limbs relax just a little bit more. 

Bull hummed, so softly he doubted the other two men had heard it. But Joel had _felt_ it. 

He hoped they took the long way to camp.

\-------------

Healing spell or no, there was no comfortable position to sleep in when you had a broken leg. Joel could feel the magic flooding through his veins, slowly but surely mending bone and blood vessels

The bruises Bull had left on him two days ago had been healed as a result. Joel wasn’t sure he appreciated that. Shame furled through him at wanting them to be replaced. He shouldn’t want that, should he?

The majority of his injury would be cured within the next few days. Still, he would need to let his body rest and heal on its own, otherwise all the good the magic had done would be worthless. 

Joel stared up into the darkness of the tent. Exhausted as he was, sleep still could not find him. He desperately wanted to move. Or at least turn on his side, which was how he preferred to sleep.

As it was, keeping his leg straight and propped up was the only option.

The inquisitor huffed out a sigh, green eyes closing. Maybe he should count nugs? Did that ever actually work?

“You asleep, boss?” a familiar voice asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

Joel sat up slightly as Bull entered his tent. His towering figure was no less intimidating in the darkness. 

“I should be,” Joel answered, smiling almost sheepishly. “But it doesn’t seem to be happening.”

Bull hummed in understanding. He maneuvered himself until he sat at Joel’s right side. Even though the tent was fairly large, it still felt a bit snug with Bull inside. Joel didn’t mind, though. His presence was always comforting.

“You were distracted today.” 

The accusation was said with such conviction, it took Joel a moment to think about denying it. Of course, to do so would be pointless. You can’t lie to a professional liar. 

“A bit,” the mage acknowledged with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“By what?”

Joel hesitated, running his fingers nervously through his hair before answering with a soft, “You.” 

Bull didn’t appear surprised by the response. The Qunari shifted next to him, reaching out to place large, encompassing hand on his knee. Joel chastised himself for wishing it was a _little_ bit higher. Now wasn’t the time.

“Joel, if this arrangement is going to be too distracting-”

“It’s not,” Joel cut him off. He turned towards Bull as much as he could without jostling his leg. Determination was set on his features, and maybe a hint of desperation.

“It’s not,” he repeated, voice a bit steadier. “Yes, I thought about you a lot today, but that wasn’t why I got hurt. The rogue caught me off guard. It happens. I’m alive and I can do my damn job. So don’t…”

The hand on his knee had moved higher as he spoke, the words suddenly stuck in his throat. 

Warmth spread across his skin from the touch. Bull squeezed down gently, fingers traveling under the blanket he had over him and towards his bare, inner thigh. Joel became acutely aware that only the thin layer of his smallclothes separated them now. 

What had he been saying, again?

“I know you can do your job, boss. I just had to be sure. This is supposed to help you relieve stress, not cause it,” Bull explained, hand stopping just short of somewhere much more inappropriate. 

Green eyes couldn’t break from the Qunari’s stare. The darkness placed a shadow over them, but even still Joel could feel the heat in his gaze. Intense but waiting. For permission, maybe?

Not looking away, Joel moved his own hand to gently cup the side of Bull’s face. The grip on his thigh tightened in response. 

“Then give me relief. Please,” he breathed out softly before leaning up. 

Even sitting, the height difference was drastic. Joel could only lift himself up so much. His tipped his head upwards, hovering just under Bull’s mouth. 

The Qunari got the hint. Bull placed his other hand at the back of Joel’s neck, cradling it as he surged forward, their mouths fitting together sweetly.

The kiss was chaste at first. Small, tentative kisses that warmed him up inside. 

The first swipe of Bull’s tongue across his bottom lip made him moan. Bull tangled his fingers into his hair, tilting his head for a better, deeper angle. Joel let both of his hands hold onto Bull’s face, not wanting him to pull away.

So engaged in the kiss, Joel didn’t noticed the movement of Bull’s other hand. Slowly, the Qunari let his hand slid between Joel’s legs, squeezing and pumping up.

Joel gasped, and Bull took the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. The motion of Bull’s hand sent a tingling spark up through his spine. 

Tension pooled low in his groin, the pressure and arousal making him go mad with want of more. Joel moved a hand away from Bull’s face, gripping the Quinari’s wrist urging him to touch him harder and faster through his smallclothes. 

Their kiss became wetter, a little messy in the best way. Bull groaned into Joel’s mouth, biting his bottom lip teasingly. Joel rocked forward as much as he could into Bull’s touch, his leg keeping him from getting the friction he desperately needed.

Bull didn’t kiss like he fought. It was almost worshipful. Joel felt as if he were being consumed with every pleasurable slip of tongue. Everything was measured carefully, pouring into him like liquid heat. He gripped onto Bull for dear life, overwhelmed but wanting more.

When Bull went past the thin fabric and gripped him firmly, Joel moaned loudly. Bull swallowed the sound with his lips, pushing forward and deepening the kiss. Joel’s hips canted forward, and the Qunari obliged by slowly pumping his already hard cock. 

The Inquisitor turned his head and broke their kiss, sucking in a sharp breath. Bull licked the shell of Joel’s ear, nibbling on the lobe gently. 

“More?” Bull asked, voice low and rumbling. 

Joel panted softly, barely able to nod his head. “Maker…yes. Anything.”

He meant it too. His injury be damned to the Fade.

Satisfied by his answer, Bull gave his neck a quick peck before moving away. His hand left Joel altogether, Joel’s hips following the lack of friction before he could stop himself. The Inquisitor groaned at the loss. How was that ‘more’?

Bull bent down by his side, his face and warm breath near his groin. _Oh._  That could definitely be more.

“This isn’t the best angle,” Bull murmured, and sweet Maker his deep voice made him shudder pleasantly. The blanket was pulled away, but Joel couldn’t say he was the least bit cold.  

“I’d rather have your legs over my shoulders. But it’ll have to do.”

The words sent a very nice image to mind. Perhaps they could try that back at Skyhold. 

Shifting a close as he could, Bull kissed the base of Joel’s cock, licking a slow line up to the head. Joel groaned, biting his bottom lip to keep from being too loud. 

Bull lapped at the head before engulfing it, humming softly. The sound sent a vibration through the Inquisitor, who keened softly. Joel’s hands curled into the blankets beneath him, knuckles tight.

Bull’s mouth was pure bliss. It was warm and wet as he swallowed more of Joel down. Keeping his hips still was tortuous but moving too much wouldn’t help his injury. Plus, it didn’t seem very gentlemanly to accidentally choke your lover. 

Small groans left Joel’s lips with every swipe of Bull’s talented tongue. The Qunari had picked up a steady, pleasurable rhythm that had Joel’s thighs shaking. 

With an obscene ‘pop’, Bull released himself from Joel’s cock, taking to lick along the base. His breathing was practically a growl. Joel looked down, the sight so dirty and glorious that he couldn’t help the choked whimper that left his lips. 

“You can touch me. Put your hands on my horns,” Bull offered, smirking up at him. Joel felt himself flush all over, cock twitching in excitement. This Qunari would be the death of him. 

The Inquisitor didn’t trust himself to reply verbally. He swallowed thickly, moving his hands to grip the base of Bull’s horns. Joel could feel Bull’s grinning response, right before he took Joel fully into his mouth once more.

Joel arched his back, the immense heat and wet rhythmic pressure of Bull swallowing around him utterly fantastic. He panted harshly, grip tightening on Bull’s horns. The Qunari sucked harder, bobbing his head up and down. 

One of Bull’s hands curled around his hip, keeping Joel steady. The Inquisitor forced himself not to buck up into that delicious heat. Bull moaned around him, the vibrations making pleasure sing through Joel’s veins.

It felt like magic. Like lightning. 

“Oh, Bull,” Joel moaned, eyes fluttering closed in bliss. The pressure within him was building, arousal tight like a coil and waiting to burst. Bull didn’t stop his pace, throat constricting around Joel’s cock sinfully. 

Bull continued to suck, getting slightly sloppy but reveling in it. He shifted his other hand not on Joel’s hip to fumble with the ties of his pants before wrapping around his own cock, fully erect and already leaking with precum. He groaned at the pleasurable sensations that it added, taking Joel down further. The Inquisitor’s cock hit that back of his throat and Joel yelped in surprised ecstasy. 

It was so easy to get the mage worked up. He couldn’t wait until they got back to Skyhold. Then he could take him apart slowly. He would leave bruises and lovebites all over his inner thighs, wrapping his legs around his head. Then Joel could be as loud as he wanted, instead of stifling back his sweet sounds so as not to alert the rest of the party.

Joel was getting close. It was overwhelming in the best way. Bull’s mouth gave him the perfect amount of wet pressure and suction. 

“B-Bull,” he gasped out, voice shaking. “I’m…I’m…” He tried to stay, but Bull just hummed around his cock in response, sending jolt of pleasure all the way to his toes. 

The Qunari gripped his thigh, the touch bruising. It felt like a brand on Joel’s skin, keeping the mage where he wanted him. Almost forcing him to take the pleasure and everything else Bull gave him. The thought was enough to send Joel over the edge. 

Slapping a hand to his mouth, Joel muffled the wail that escaped his throat. Climax swept him away, Bull swallowing down his cum eagerly, milking him dry. Joel could only gasp and hiccup softly, his nerves singing. 

Bull slowly dragged himself off of the Inquisitor’s spent cock, licking his lips and groaning as if he’d been eating a sweet treat. His hand hadn’t stopped pumping his own cock, on the peak of an orgasm himself. 

The Qunari leaned forward, capturing Joel’s lips without a word. Joel was still basking in the aftermath of his climax. He opened his mouth to the other man easily, tasting himself on his tongue. 

“When we get back, I’ll fuck you into the mattress good and proper,” Bull murmured between kisses. Joel wrapped his arms around him and fell back onto the blankets, pulling Bull down with him. 

“Y-yeah?” Joel responded, face feeling permanently red at this point. He looked up at Bull’s face, seeing the pleasure on his features. It was mesmerizing. 

Joel reached between them, adding his own hand with Bull’s on his cock. Maker, but Bull was huge. He couldn’t imagine getting the whole thing in his mouth. But he would definitely try. 

The Qunari growled, thrusting his hips forward. “You won’t walk right for days. I’ll mark you everywhere. You’ll feel me whenever you move, remembering what I did to you.”

Joel groaned, Bull’s words making him tingle and twitch. He let his free hand caress the Qunari’s face, savoring the feel of rough jaw and red, wet lips. 

“Please,” Joel whispered, he wanted Bull in every way he could get. His hands continued to stroke Bull, their joined hands warm with just the right amount of pressure. 

Bull bent down to push his face into the side of Joel’s neck. He nipped and sucked at the expanse of flesh, licking with already wet lips. Every sharp drag of teeth to his already sensitive skin made Joel moan in delight. 

“Damn you’re gorgeous,” Bull rumbled, voice incredibly low and gruff against his throat. Joel closed his eyes, pumping the Qunari faster and letting his thumb rub against the head. 

Joel felt the pulsing of Bull’s cock before he heard him groan. Bull bit into Joel’s throat, muffling out the majority of his growls as he came. Cum, hot and sticky covered their hands. He stroked the Qunari through his orgasm, amazed at the feel of it all. 

Cum dripped down onto Joel’s stomach, making heat blossom to his face even more. Bull licked and soothed the bite he had given the Inquisitor, knowing it would be bright and obvious in the morning. He gently lowered himself onto Joel, making sure to avoid his leg. 

Joel gingerly took his hand away, lifting it up to his face. Shy but curious, he gave his hand a tentative lick. Salty and bitter, but not altogether unpleasant. 

“Might want to stop that, otherwise I won’t wait until Skyhold,” Bull warned, voice taking a seductive, dangerous quality. 

Joel gulped, slowly putting his hand down to the side. He was tempted to suck his fingers, just to spur the Qunari on. But they were already being risky and Joel knew he couldn’t be quiet if Bull made good on his promises. Maker he hoped the others hadn’t heard them.

Giving Joel’s neck one last kiss, Bull moved to lay on his back beside him. Their breaths steadily returning to normal. Endorphins ran through their systems as they relished in the high, Joel unable to keep a small, dopey smile off his lips.

“Maybe I should get hurt more often,” Joel mumbled, chuckling lightly.

Bull huffed out a laugh, fingers moving to wrap around his wrist. The solid weight felt incredibly nice, and Joel had to wonder why being held down by Bull in any capacity was so wonderful. 

“Don’t even think about, boss. If you want to hurt, let me do it. I’ll work you up real nice.”

Was it possible to blush after sex? Because Joel was doing it. 

Closing his eyes, the Inquisitor sighed blissfully. They should probably clean up, but he was too tired to move anymore. 

Sleep seemed to finally want to visit him, and he turned his head close to Bull. The Qunari smiled softly in the darkness and turned on his side since Joel couldn’t. He closed in on the other man, throwing an arm over his chest. 

“Go to sleep, boss,” Bull ordered gently, leaning over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

Joel, satisfied and undeniably happy, couldn’t help but obey. 

He dreamed of liquid fire in his veins and Bull’s hands around his wrists. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, suggestions, and critiques are all appreciated! Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, suggestions, and critiques are all appreciated! Thank you!


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